Make Believe
by Msynergy
Summary: The fire warms her skin, and if she closes her eyes she can make believe that everything's okay... Spoilers for 2x01 sneak peeks and future episode rumors/spoilers.


_Make Believe_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Author's Note: All these lovely spoilers and sneak peeks we've been getting have my fangirl heart all a flutter, so I've constructed this little one-shot. No doubt if speculation holds true the actual episodes will be far more mind-blowing, but as we've still got a week to go writing this has helped me cope! Hope you enjoy reading as much as I've enjoyed writing.

The fire warms her skin, and if she closes her eyes she can make believe that everything's okay, that she's on a camping trip with her best friend and they plan on gossiping all night over hot chocolate with cinnamon.

If she focuses hard enough on it she can almost believe it, and it dulls the pain of the root digging into her back and the complete lack of hot chocolate, much less a sleeping bag or tent. Not to mention the huddled figure across the fire not being her best friend, but her mother and a fairy tale character. And not just any character, but Snow White, the Snow White. Roommates with seven dwarfs, cleaning house with forest animals while singing a cheerful work tune, eating a poisoned apple freaking Snow White.

And they're stuck. Stuck god knows where all alone, away from Henry and Dav- James and everybody else, including Regina. And if that witch harmed one hair on Henry's head before they found a way back she would find a sword and- Well, it goes without saying that she might be singing a song of her own afterwards, and it started with ding-dong.

"Emma?"

She starts, hadn't the woman been asleep? Or had she been pretending to make the situation less awkward? Though how it could be made less awkward is beyond her.

"Yeah?"

"You're shaking. Is the fire not warm enough?"

The concern in that voice makes her heart ache; only Mare ever used that tone with her. And now she's gone, but isn't at the same time, and it hurts.

She clears her throat before answering, not giving anything away, "I'm fine. Just been a long day."

"You can say that again."

It's an opening, an olive branch, and nearly thirty years of sadness all wrapped up in one small phrase of agreement. You'd have to have no heart not to be affected by it, and Emma is anything but heartless.

But she can't open up, not yet. Not when there's so much left to do. She needs to be on her game, especially when there's this whole new world to deal with. She has to be strong, she has to get back to Henry, she has to protect him. He's the only thing that makes sense anymore, and he needs her.

"James will look after Henry, and they will be looking for us, just as we will do everything we can on our end. Get some sleep, Emma."

She practically jumps at Snow's voice. Only Mare was that good at guessing her thoughts, apparently it was a part of her that'd remained in her fairy tale self.

"How can you be so sure?"

The question is out of her mouth before she can help it, and she curses how weak she sounds.

"Let's just say you're not the only one good at finding people."

The answer is straightforward, but with a hint of nostalgia and she makes a mental note to borrow Henry's book once they get back. She has a lot to catch up on, so much. And she's stuck here.

"Emma? Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

The tender nickname is all mother, and everything she ever wanted to hear when she was small and scared and so alone. She shouldn't want it as badly now as she did then, but she does, and she curls further into herself, wiping at the tears that had betrayed her.

"I'm fine."

She hears Snow get up and tenses, ready to bolt, unknown worlds be damned, but then Snow surprises her.

She lays back down behind Emma, close but not close enough to touch, she's just there. Just like she'd been there for Mary Margaret that one long night. A comforting presence in a world that didn't make sense. A friend who knows what you're going through. And Snow, not Mary Margaret, knows exactly what she's going through.

Turning onto her other side before she can think it through, Emma meets her mother's eyes, seeing the tears that match her own. Following her instincts again she reaches out with the arm she's not using as a pillow, and Snow takes no time grasping her hand tightly.

It's no catharsis by any means, but it's a start. They have a common goal, they both want their family back, and it's a goal that Emma is determined to see through. Whatever's waiting for them in the morning better watch out, because she remembers a certain Hatter and some mad moves and between the two of them they will find a way.

"Goodnight, Emma," Snow whispers with a smile, burrowing her head into her own arm pillow and tightening her grasp.

"Goodnight…Snow," she whispers back.

Emma blames her exhaustion for the inflection in the name insinuating something far more familial. She feels the surprise in her roommate's grip and tightens her own hold, however, closing her eyes so she doesn't have to see look of utter love on Snow's face.

Yeah, definitely gonna need that catharsis when they get back, or at the very least those bottles of wine.


End file.
